


Like seafoam upon the waves

by transxander



Series: Ferdibert Week 2019 [1]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: M/M, Pre-Relationship, and dumbass!hubert, background doropetra, mermaid!ferdie, nb ferdie and nb linhardt because i make the rules, no one was misgendered in the making of this fic, this fic got away from me whoo boy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-01
Updated: 2019-12-01
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:01:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21633358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/transxander/pseuds/transxander
Summary: Curiosity killed the cat, they say, but merfolk are not immune to it, either.{prompt: fairy tales}
Relationships: Ferdinand von Aegir/Hubert von Vestra
Series: Ferdibert Week 2019 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1559263
Comments: 4
Kudos: 88





	Like seafoam upon the waves

**Author's Note:**

> its ferdibert week babeyyy!! theres quite a bunch of people who are participating and that makes me happy but also nervous to post my own stuff whoops,, anyway this was supposed to be a little mermaid au but then i realized i didnt want to do that sooooo..... also different characters use different pronouns for ferdie bc this is my nonbinary ferdinand agenda thanks for coming to my ted talk

The water is calm today. Gentle waves are lapping at the rock Ferdinand is sitting on. A single cloud drifts by, the sun winks. He would love nothing more than to be able to sit here forever, warming his scales in the gentle breeze. On the horizon, ships slowly slide by, too far away to see him. 

He quite likes ships. It is fascinating, to him, how these humans, as his father insists they are called, would build something so great simply to enjoy the sea. They cannot even breathe underneath the water's surface, just as he cannot go on land. Maybe that is why they travel the sea. Maybe they, like him, long for the unreachable. 

One time, the night was dark and he took the chance to look upon a ship. The sea carried him up, as if he was her babe. What he saw was marvelous. He saw humans dance, but not like he could, no, they stomped their feet and twirled their legs so fast he could scarcely keep up. They were so colourful, too! The light shone with their joy. 

However, up on the ship, higher than he could reach and what seemed to him like the top of the world, stood two humans away from the rest. One had long, white hair, while they stood so straight they looked as if they were as perfect as the statues of marble sunk down to his home. The human behind them looked to disappear in the night sky, the only thing betraying them the glint of light in their eyes. 

He thought they must be the most untouchable humans he would ever see.

A sudden sound startles him out of his musings. Echoes of laughter come from the beach that, now that he takes it in fully, might be too close to his somewhat-carefully chosen rock. He does not see anyone, though.

"Curiosity poisons the mind," his father had said once. "Sensible merfolk stay down here, where there are no horrible humans. As my eldest, you have to be sensible, Ferdinand. Do not approach those monsters unless you must drown them. It is what is best for everyone."

Those words are forgotten as Triton's so often cursed curiosity overtakes his child. This laughter was unlike his siblings', rough and earnest instead of bubbly and light. Ferdinand feels called towards it, a pull he cannot quite explain. 

Yet as he approaches the river that leads to the sea, he feels the nerves swarm in his stomach like a school of fish. "Careful," his father had told him since he was old enough to understand, "you must be quick, more quiet than the seaweed that goes with the stream. To be seen by a human means death."

Those are the words that sound in his head now, even though the true advice his father would certainly be yelling at him now rings nowhere near as clear as perhaps it should have. He can still turn back, return to his father the ever-obedient child, but he does not. He feels he simply must see what is happening. 

Slowly, he makes his way to a overhanging bush, from behind which he can hear the noises that sparked his curiosity. He hides in the leaves, carefully peeking out between them.

The sight before him fills him with an unexpected joy. There he sees humans splashing in the water, laughing and joking with such genuine happiness it puts a smile on his face as well. However, the biggest surprise comes when he notices these humans are, without a doubt, the crew of the ship he looked upon so long ago. They have changed, he can tell, have aged where the only sign of his years is the steady growth of his hair. He does not know what stage of human life they are in. He would say they are adults, but they might view themselves differently. 

On the shore, a short distance away, the white-haired human sits, brow furrowed as they stare at the water, their companion, dressed completely in black save for something white just visible from behind his collar, next to them. Even this close to the beach, to the water, they are still unreachable. 

Suddenly, though, his wallowing is cut short by a head with shockingly blue hair that pops up out of the bush. "Hello there!" the human exclaims in a voice so loud they might as well have been calling to him during a storm, "would you like to join us?"

Ferdinand startles, struggles to find words, but even if he had not, he feels he might not want to use them around humans. He has experienced firsthand what a few honeyed words could do to them.

"Caspar," a human who is sitting down in the shallow part of the water, clearly not interested in swimming, says, "it is quite rude to just jump on someone like that."

"It is normal when Caspar is nice, do not be worrying. However, I have hope you will be joining us as well!" This human smiles at him, the white of their teeth a stark contrast with their skin, that is darker than even his own. 

He wants to return the gesture, but the fear seizes control of his face. He probably looks like a fish seconds away from being swallowed by a shark. Will they kill him? Will his father kill him, should he make it back? Can he make a swim for it?

"See, now you've scared her!" A different human scrunches their nose, their tone one his father might wield, albeit warmer, less harsh. "Don't worry, sweetie, we won't hurt you. Come swim with us!"

He should like to take her up on the offer, were it not for the fact that they were humans and he was not and they would surely kill him or capture him and put him on display and make him do tricks and what would his father think of him--

Unable to stand the thoughts racing through his head, he backs away from the bush, slightly, slowly. When the humans do not seem to move, he dives down as quickly as he can, swimming away as if his life depends on it (and it might, he can't be sure). The water streaks past him, but the surprised, startled, scared noises that he hears when his tail breaches the surface for a moment stay. 

He does not tell his father where exactly he has been when he returns. No further than the rock offshore, just as instructed.

He also does not tell him he plans to return. He hopes the humans have left something behind, something he can look upon to remember their dancing and their laughing. 

When he manages to slip away long enough to return, it is night. As he surfaces, he is almost caught off guard by the stars above him. He doubts it will ever grow old. They reflect in the water around him like he is swimming in the sky itself. There are little sights more breathtaking, he is sure. 

The way back feels shorter, somehow. It might be he does not feel he will die should he dally. In the moonlight, the forest seems more magical, like it is a place he could disappear into should he have the chance. He sighs. It is a pity he cannot. Surely his father would not look for him there.

The river is much quieter now. The water still babbles, flows gently down its beaten path, but there is no laughter or birdsong. It feels a little lonely, too, perhaps. 

He passes the bush the blue-haired human scared him from, and as he looks around, the first thought that crosses his mind is that this is such a mundane river bend without anyone else here. He would not have stopped to admire it. 

To his disappointment, he does not find any trinkets in the grass or the sand. Maybe they have been left further inland, where he cannot reach. That thought makes him sigh once more. What a shame that would be. 

"So, you have decided to return."

The person that meets his startled gaze when he whirls around is a human, their dark clothes blending in with the trees behind them. Ferdinand recognizes them immediately. How could he not, when they catch his eye so easily?

"Come now," they say, a certain drawl to their voice that makes him think they might be joking (though he could be wrong, really, what does he know about human social etiquette?), "surely you cannot be scared of my kind."

They do not seem scared either. It would be impressive if Ferdinand wasn't so busy worrying he might hurt them. 

Slowly, they sit down, dangling their feet in the water. He is only now realizing they are not wearing any shoes. "I only wish to speak with you," they say, "because I am curious."

Curious? They are curious? He is curious, too, he cannot deny it, for why else would he not have swam away as quickly as his tail would allow it. Can he indulge in this rare opportunity to talk with an actual human?

Oh, to hell with it, he figures.

"Who are you?"

They perk up slightly at his voice, and for a moment he thinks he's done it, they will hunt him down to kill him for sport, or jump after him to drown themself in the depths of the ocean, but neither happens. "My name is Hubert. I am a sailor from the nearby port town." A slight hint of a smirk flashes across their face, gone almost before he can notice it. "And who are you?"

"...Ferdie," he mutters, hesitantly, as he takes a closer look at them. They are no longer so far apart, as if they could be equals, and he can see them far more clearly than he could previously. The only splash of colour about them are their eyes, a muted green Ferdinand thinks is very pretty. Their hair looks stringy, like it is wet, though nothing about the rest of them looks that way. Maybe it is not wet, then, but he would not know what else it could be. Judging by their clothing, that is all black and seems heavy, humans must get rather cold. It is also night, of course. Do humans require much sun?

"I shall be frank with you," they straighten their back, "I wish to learn more about mermaids, such as yourself. That is why I am here."

Now it is Ferdinand's turn to perk up. He had never imagined to find a human in a similar position as himself! Somehow, he manages to calm himself enough to not burst out into a fit of excited squeals (it is a very close call). "I can tell you," he says, trying and very possibly failing to replicate his father's tone he only ever uses in those fancy meetings Ferdinand is not allowed to attend, "if you tell me about--" he gestures in their general direction-- "people like you."

They let out a small huff, a laugh. Again, it is so different from his siblings'. "They do not teach you how a man functions in fish school?"

Ferdinand blinks, once, twice, a third time, before his eyebrows knit together in a concentrated confusion. "What is a man?"

After a moment of silence, Hubert sighs, long and heavy. "I see we have much to discuss."

They spend the entire night together, chatting, exchanging stories (though, really, he can hardly call it an exchange; Hubert seems to lose themself in teaching). When the sun rises, he wishes it hadn't instead. Hubert seems startled by it, like they weren't expecting it to come back again, something Ferdinand finds quite puzzling. However, before he can disappear into the cold, dark waters once more, they make him promise to meet them again the next night.

He does.

And so, over the course of more than one moon, he meets Hubert underneath the moonlight, and they talk of everything and nothing all at once. He shares thoughts on the intricate workings of their sea-level social systems, Hubert tells him of his friends. Caspar is always loud, so he says, and Dorothea seems under the impression he is a woman (he has come to understand the term man and woman... somewhat). He cannot blame her. Humans see what they want to see. 

One night, they sit together in silence. The sand feels rough against his tail, but he wants to stay on the shore, next to Hubert. The water barely covers enough of his scales. They have just taken to sitting like this.

"Ferdie," Hubert says, voice too heavy for their usual light banter. 

He feels the cold creep up from his tail, take hold of him together with the nerves. "Yes?" He hopes he does not shiver. 

"Would you mind confirming or denying a... certain story humans tell?"

"A story?" He hardly knows Hubert to be the type to think myths and legends have any merit. Maybe he misjudged him.

"They tell of merfolk with voices so beautiful they could charm even the most stubborn man, make him forget who he is."

The cold creeps up further, takes hold of his chest and face. Of course the humans had stories like this. He was a fool to think he could hide anything from Hubert. "It... it is true. Merfolk like that, they exist."

Hubert studies his face carefully before he speaks up again. "And what about you?"

His throat refuses to work with him, sealed shut with panic. He may splutter, he is not too sure (his father would tell him he is a disgrace, but he decides to disregard that small fact for now, or he might very well never calm down). "I--" Deep breaths. Deep breaths. Try again. "Yes, that is... like me." He refuses to look Hubert in the eye, afraid to see fear, rejection. 

He was most definitely not prepared for the satisfied purr that he lets out. "Perfect," Hubert mumbles, and suddenly Ferdinand feels more insecure than he would have after facing his rejection. "How exactly does this work?"

Briefly, Ferdinand wonders if it is too late to swim away to never return. "It... humans cannot resist the singing of certain merfolk. I have even heard of those who need only speak." How fortunate he is not one of them, or they would not be sitting here. 

"Any human?"

Ferdinand squirms under the sharp questioning. He hates talking about this power he has. His father used to berate him for being so "shy", but really, what use is it? It can be used to hurt humans (and of course that is why his father is so proud of him for it, more proud than of anything he has ever done), yet what if he feels no desire to do anything like that? "Any human."

Suddenly, Hubert stands up. He cuts a clean figure against the moon behind him, a shadow in the night. "I would like for you to join me in town sometime."

"What?"

The look on his face catches him off guard. It is not sad, not really, and not angry, either. It is filled with a wistful sort of hope, in a way that Ferdinand feels to his very core, but it also looks like he is as surprised as he is, like he wasn't expecting to actually ask. "I-- we could use your help. You see, Edelgard's, uh... uncle has taken a turn for the worse, if you catch my meaning. I fear we may... we may need to ensure he does not cause any further harm."

It does not matter what he thinks of this situation, does it? Hubert, the very first human friend he has ever made, could probably ask anything of him. Especially when he looks like that, his mind unhelpfully supplies, and he is forced to turn away with burning cheeks. "I... cannot go on land, Hubert. You know this. I will be dead before we ever even reach the city."

Something sparkles in his eyes. "You may leave that problem to me."

* * *

"No, no, no, I am-- I am not going in there, Hubert, you must think of something else-- no, absolutely not."

For his part, Hubert seems rather proud of the small cart he is standing next to. Maybe he has some reason to be. None of the water it is holding is leaking out, currently, but who knows how long it will hold? Can it even carry his weight? How will he get in? Is he going to be forgotten in some strange human establishment, forced to wait until the water evaporates, followed by his untimely death?

"We can cover the cart with this blanket," Hubert explains, calmly, as if he wasn't just interrupted by a hysterical merperson, "and you will be able to see the city."

That catches his attention, more firmly than the potential horrible ends he could meet in that wretched thing. "Really?"

And see it he does. It is quite the marvellous thing, in his opinion. Before they have even reached the city of Enbarr, as Hubert says it is called, the great gates with their magnificent walls stretch across the land, and tower over them in all their glory. He has never seen a wall so high. It is like they are reaching for the sky. 

When they enter the city, too, he gawks at his surroundings. There are people walking about, real-life people, not life size, perfected statues of cold marble! Some stare as they pass by, but most do not even spare him more than a single glance. 

And what of the houses! As they venture further into the city, they change slowly, from small and in brown stone to much grander ones, painted in beautiful, soft colours. Hubert tells him the bigger the house, the richer its inhabitants. He does not think he knows what rich means.

Eventually, after so much to see, they stop at a house (a villa, Hubert corrects him) that is a gentle red, with a lacquered door in a deep brown. "This is where lady Edelgard lives."

He turns around to look him in the face. "And you?"

Hubert blinks, and turns away quickly. "I live here, too."

That answer satisfies him, but when he turns back to the front of the... villa, he spots a set of stairs that lead to the door. "Can we climb those?" he asks, pointing at them. 

"There is a servant's entrance around the back. No stairs."

Before he can feel any sort of offended at having to use the servant's entrance (he doubts he would have, either way), Hubert pushes the cart into a beautiful garden. There are so many flowers and plants he could not have imagined to exist, in vibrant colours, with delicate petals and leaves that shine in the sun. This, so he thinks, is where the real difference between land and sea lies. It is a difference he is more than willing to embrace.

Yet when they enter the house proper, all those thoughts are blown away. Here, he sees objects that he has seen before, at the bottom of the sea: marble busts, painted vases, goblets in a fabric he has learned is called metal, but they seem so much more at place here. They are only funny trinkets, left behind by a civilization that is so removed from their own, back home. So this is what they look like when they are where they belong. 

Actually, he thinks as he looks back to Hubert, the same can be said for humans, can't it? He looks much more at ease here, like this is where he belongs instead of a dingy forest at midnight. That makes enough sense, he supposes. 

Hubert opens his mouth to speak, but suddenly, he hears voices coming from a nearby room. "They're here!" one says, somewhat hushed, before another hisses, "Shut up, she'll hear you!"

The look on Hubert's face goes from relaxed to mortified in mere moments. It would be funny, really, were it not for the fact that something horrible must be going to happen. He feels truly trapped for the first time since getting into the cart, and almost subconsciously he presses closer to the wood. 

Hubert seems to notice his discomfort, for he grips the handles tighter and whispers, "Don't worry. I will handle this." He slips away as soon as he finishes processing what he has just said. 

Ferdinand barely manages to resist the urge to call after him. The door slams shut behind him, and he is alone in this big house with nowhere to go. Great. He should have listened to his father. If he had done so, he would not be about to end up in the merfolk stew (his grandmother used to tell stories of the humans and their merfolk-feasts; quite distasteful, he should think). 

A soft cough pulls him from his thoughts, his head now filling with a cold dread instead. When he slowly turns around, he finds the white-haired human, who he now knows is called Edelgard, standing there, a gentle smile on her face that cannot possibly be real. "Good morning, Ferdie," she says, like she finds panicking merfolk in creaking carts in her foyer all the time. "How are you?"

Now that he actually has to talk to a human besides Hubert, his throat seizes up with nerves. He told himself he could do it, but that was back home, where he was not looking into the eyes of quite possibly the most intimidating and impressive human on this entire cursed planet. "Hello," he squeaks, only just able to force the words past his lips.

Despite his very apparent panic, she seems to relax upon hearing his voice, too perfect posture falling into a more natural one. "Are you looking forward to the party?"

A party? He blinks. Where does that fit into getting rid of her uncle? Unless... "For your uncle?"

She frowns and tilts her head slightly, a blank expression steadily making its way onto her face. "I do not have an uncle."

"I... huh?" He is utterly unable to put that more eloquently in his confusion (his father would still scold him for it, probably). Has her uncle already passed? Disappeared? If she does not have one, why is he here?

"The party is for you." Edelgard sounds just as confused as he is. "Hubert said you were very excited to come, and we are all very excited to get to know you."

A party. For him.

A _party_. For _him_.

She carries on, oblivious to his little crisis (he can call it a crisis, because it is true, and it is most definitely not little, but a merperson can dream). "I proposed a beach party, but Hubert insisted you would love to see the city. I hope you have not been disappointed."

How is he supposed to explain to this person, who is being extremely nice and has achieved this sort of idol reputation in his mind, that he came here to kill a man? Specifically her alleged uncle? That is hardly a topic to breach in casual conversation, or in any conversation, really. "No, the city... is beautiful." It is not a lie, and also about the only thing he can think to say.

Her face brightens with a small smile. “I’m glad. Now then,” she says as she grabs the cart’s handles and starts pushing it with amazing ease, “let us join the others, shall we?” He does not think he actually has a say in the matter, seeing as he is currently pretty much trapped. 

When Edelgard opens the door for them, six faces turn towards them. He recognizes Caspar with the boundless energy, Linhardt, who is his opposite in that regard and already seems to want to go back to sleep, Petra and Dorothea, hand-in-hand, with the same surprise on their faces, and Bernadetta, who immediately hides behind an even more mortified Hubert. 

Dorothea is the first to move and speak. “Good morning!” Her voice is bright, cheerful. “It’s so nice to finally meet you! I am Dorothea.” She walks over to him, Petra in tow, with her hand expectantly reaching out towards him.

It takes him a moment before he realizes he is meant to shake it. “Ferdie,” he says, sucking in a sharp breath that he hopes will calm his nerves. It is in vain. 

From their place at the table, Linhardt waves in his general direction, not bothering to open their eyes, and Caspar follows their example, albeit much more enthusiastically. Hubert straightens his back, folds his arms in front of this chest, eyes downcast.

“Hubert,” Edelgard says, in a tone that makes him think she must be rather scary next to merely intimidating, “would you tell me why Ferdie here is convinced this party was for an uncle of mine instead of them?”

A thick silence dawns upon the room as everyone waits for his answer. The only sounds are Caspar’s nervous shuffling and Bernadetta’s quick breathing. As for himself, he is holding his breath in anticipation. 

Hubert lets his arms fall down his sides before he caves in, but he does not meet her eyes. “I did-- just-- how do you--” he sighs quietly, “I didn’t want him to say no.”

That takes Ferdinand by surprise. Had he been giving off the impression that he would not hesitate to shoot down such ideas? “I would not have refused anything you came up with,” he mumbles, softly, afraid to say anything that makes him feel worse.

Yet the grin that spreads across Dorothea’s face makes him think he has said something incredibly wrong. She turns to Hubert, whose face has turned a shade of red like the brightest coral. “Are you alright, Hubie?” The drawl to her voice is one he can recognize as teasing, and Hubert responds by turning an even brighter red.

Bernadetta starts giggling, and both Edelgard and he easily join in. Soon, everyone in the room has, except for Hubert, who Ferdinand is not being as nice to as he deserves (thoughts for a different time), and Linhardt, who is only grinning.

And Ferdinand thinks, for the first time, that maybe, just maybe, his grandmother, his father, everyone who has ever told him that humans are evil and not to be trusted, are all wrong, that maybe, hopefully, he can learn to love these ones, walk amongst them as if he was any other human. He smiles to himself, as sincerely as he dares to be.

Wouldn’t that be something?

**Author's Note:**

> hope you enjoyed!! my tumblr is @trans-xander if you wanna come yell at me but now i must finish the fic for the next day bc i am NOT prepared. thank u for reading!!!


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